I, Misanthrope

I have decided to stop fighting the fact that I am a misanthrope.

Even from a young age, I always tended to prefer the "antagonist" or "flawed heroes" in stories. I found the goody-goody types annoying, and if they weren't just out-and-out evil for no reason, I quickly identified with these "darker" characters because they were the only honest ones-- the only ones to point out the hypocrisy of the so-called pretty-boy heroes or Pollyanna princesses in distress. When I was 11 or 12, one of my favorite characters was Daria, from the MTV show by the same name. I appreciated and identified with her cynicism, because it was honest. And Dr. House from House, is pretty much my definition of awesome.

I think initially, I was at one point genuinely personable and naive and willing to give people the benefit of the doubt. But then I started interacting with them. I think the tragic events of the last day in Colorado, just proves my point. I might be called maladjusted or mean or imbalanced because of this, but is a world in which I cannot even go to the theaters without fearing that my "fellow man" might shoot me, a world that I really want to "adjust" or conform to? Is that one that I really want to accept? These bouts of violence are obviously extreme, and not everyone is crazy. But even in the everyday: people gossip, people judge, people try to use whatever influence they have over you-- be it a relationship, monetary, numbers-- to get you to do and think as they do. And if that doesn't work, often they resort to out-and-out force. Whether it is two guys beating the crap out of each other, or the passive-agressive "office politics," it just doesn't seem that species homo sapien sapiens is a very agreeable species. Today at work, we listened to a whole talk where the guy giving it explains how it is a very common practice in Russia for business people-- or really anyone who has a little money-- to bribe the government to drum up a sham criminal prosecution against someone with whom they have a dispute. Nice.

Also telling is the number of highly-educated, influential and profound thinkers over the years who were self-avowed misanthropes, or at least displayed misanthropic tendencies. Jonathan Swift. Sartre. Kurt Vonnegut. Mark Twain. Heiddeger. Oscar Wilde. Jane Austen. Hell, even Albert Einstein famously said, "Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity. And I am not sure about the universe." Considering the intellectual prowess of that list, I think that is at least strong circumstantial evidence that I am not wrong in coming to this conclusion about people generally.

A poignant example of what I am talking about, both in its substance and in the context I found it in-- namely, abandoned on the street being stepped on in the rain-- is this sign I saw when I was walking home. It is rather telling.

But rather then rant and vent, I am posting videos for you all that are much more entertaining than listening to me whine. They express my frustration in a way I never could, because it is no longer socially-acceptable to tell people off, no matter how much they might deserve it. Courtesy of Youtube. I unfortunately cannot claim credit for their creation; whoever did compile this, is awesome. Enjoy!

200 of the best movie insults of all time

Incidentally, I deleted my Facebook account. Technically it is only de-activated, but so long as I don't sign on to it for 14 days, it will be permanently deleted. As you may have gathered, I am not shy about sharing my opinion, regardless of what people think, and did so frequently on my Facebook. I got tired, however, of constantly defending myself from peoples' mindless drivel, in replies to things I posted, on my own wall. So, I shut it down. This probably won't help my readership on this blog, considering that much of the traffic comes from the link that was on my Facebook page. Oh well.

And finally, since I like quotes so much, I think I will end with a few from famous people, relevant to tonight's topic:

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” ― Marilyn Monroe

“Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.” ― Ernest Hemingway

“I will not let anyone walk through my mind with their dirty feet.” ― Mahatma Gandhi

“Those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.” ― Bernard M. Baruch

“I wrote the story myself. It's about a girl who lost her reputation and never missed it.” ― Mae West

And finally, another gem from the incomparable Marilyn Monroe:

“When it comes down to it, I let them think what they want. If they care enough to bother with what I do, then I'm already better than them.” ― Marilyn Monroe

Weekend of Chill

What kind of day was today? The kind of day where I don't eat dinner until 9:45PM, because I didn't leave the office until 9:00PM. And then I was at this restaurant in Little Italy, and kept getting "ciao Bella'd" by the male waitstaff. I can't tell if it was subtle quasi-pickup line, or if it is just an Italian thing.

Luckily, this weekend was not like today. First, I slept in really late. Like really late. But, considering I work long days (like today, although this was *way* longer than normal) perhaps it is just my body getting what it needs on the weekend. Stock up for the next week or whatever. But, since each day, between waking up late, and putzing around getting ready, I didn't really leave the apartment until 2:30PM each day. So I couldn't do anything epic or touristy that took several hours. Which, frankly, was fine. It's nice to have a relaxing day.

Saturday I walked around the West Village/Greenwich Village, because it was not a neighborhood I had yet been to. And, it was *Borat voice* very nice. Lots of boutiquey shops and little bars and cutesy restaurants, everything of course overpriced. I could definitely tell it is another place where the other half lives. And I really liked it. Because let's face it, I have stupid expensive tastes. I did manage to find some new brown (leather!) flats for not that much (sale!) at one of these boutiques. I had been looking for a pair because the brown flats I have now-- which are a very useful thing to have, btw-- are a couple years old and have seen better days. I also *might* have had a slice of cake as the first thing I ate in the day. I was walking down the street, and saw a line out the door at this one bakery. I figured if there was a line like that, it must be a thing, and I should try it. So I got in line, got my slice of lemon cake, and went and sat on a park bench. The bakery is Magnolia Bakery, and apparently, as I learned after, it is a thing. The case was super moist and crumbly, but I do think it could have been a bit more lemony in flavor. But all and all, a nice slice of cake. And it was very pleasant to sit on a bench in a little park in a neighborhood square, eating cake, relaxing and people-watching. I did a lot sitting and relaxing and people watching. At this square, at another park/square thing in the neighborhood, at a fountain along the water on the west side (very pretty seeing the sun set over the Hudson, looking on to New Jersey. That was my favorite part of the day, just sitting there and relaxing as day turned to dusk). This is pretty much what I did when I wasn't walking around, just seeing what was there.

I also managed to pick up another decor item for the apartment. I went to this store that was like furniture and household accessories, called MXYPLYZYK (seriously. And no, I don't know how to say that). It was definitely my style: more modern than not, but with a bit of quirk. Like higher quality and more legit versions of the type of style of things you might see in the household stuff section of Urban Outfitters. I ended up buying a small decorative vase that I think will go well with what little color scheme there is (all my furniture is dark brown or black), and help bring more color into the place. I felt awful though. I was looking at this set of three bowls (kind of Asiatic in style, like rice or sauce bowls). I was kind of drawn towards them because they had owls on them, and it's kind of a thing with my sorority. If you aren't in a sorority, you definitely won't understand, so just take my word for it. They were in these boxes, which had their fronts exposed, stacked one bowl on top of the other, with some cardboard between. Stupid me, I thought that the bowls would be somehow tied down or secured in their packaging (I guess from a lifetime of growing up in California, where everything is secured as much as possible because, earthquakes). Well, they weren't and I ended up dumping two of the ceramic bowls out. I managed to catch one, but the other smashed to the ground and shattered. So, I ended up with two owl bowls to boot. The guy discounted the price to reflect the lesser bowl, but I still felt terrible. I didn't mind picking up the extra bowls-- it was right, considering I had just smashed one and the set was now ruined in terms of selling to someone else, and they are relevant to my life-- but I just felt so stupid and embarrassed and sorry. But the owner and the associate were just really nice about it. Like really nice about it, and were reassuring me that it was fine, didn't even raise any voice or anything. So that was appreciated, because I am pretty sure that as I was signing the receipt, my hand was shaking a bit. So yeah, in conclusion: if you are in New York, you should totally check out MXYPLYZYK, not only because they have cool stuff, but because the owner and his staff are good people.

The other thing I learned about the West Village, is that it is basically New York's answer to the Castro in San Francisco, and Boystown in Chicago. Except-- to my surprise, given NYC's history-- not as extreme. So that was interesting. I think I may have found the original Stonewall bar. The Stonewall thing was New York, right? Not San Francisco? I should know this having grown up in the Bay Area, but I forget things like this easily. So, it was fun and quirky in that way, too.

To end the day I decided I wanted to see a fun movie. So I decided I wanted to see Rock of Ages. Unfortunately, it was only playing at a theatre in Times Square (seriously, why do I always inevitably wind up back in Times Square?). So I had to fight the touristas. But it was worth it: the movie was very entertaining, was surprisingly good (since I had not seen, but was nonetheless skeptical, of the musical) and had like a solidly legit cast (Seriously: Mary J. Blige, Alec Baldwin, Paul Giamatti, Russell Brand, and of course Tom Cruise). And was a genuinely "feel-good movie." After Tropic Thunder and now this, it is official: Tom Cruise is at his best when he is playing batshit, mildly self-parodying roles. Although, given what's gone down in Tom's life as of late, there was something unintentionally poignant about the role he played in the movie. You'd have to see it though to see what I mean.

Sunday was even less adventuresome. I headed up to the Upper East Side, got some lunch at a Thai place, and headed over to Barnes and Noble. I've decided that I need some reading material that isn't caselaw or stupid internet news articles. So I picked up like five, wildly different books: Ernest Hemingway on War, Seven Gothic Tales by Isak Dinesen, A Battle for the Soul of Islam, A Farewell to Arms, and The History of the World According to Facebook. Again, wildly different. Then, I took myself over to Central Park, found a bench (actually, a couple benches, since I was at this one, but the weird line dancing and music that was going on about 10 yards away finally drove me to find a quieter, more secluded place), and read. Read the Facebook book first, since it was humorous and a quick read. Then started in on A Farewell to Arms (also, definition of some kind of stereotype (dunno which one): reading Hemingway in Central Park. It's like what female protagonists in Edith Wharton novels do, except for the fact that they probably aren't reading Hemingway because it was either too early yet, or he was a contemporary of that time period). It was so nasty and muggy out on Sunday (to the point of, standing outside for five minutes made me sweat like I had just run five miles) that honestly, sitting and reading was about all one could do without feeling like death.

That was basically my day on Sunday. I was out on the Park for a couple hours, then walked around the Upper East Side for a little while. Note: I love the Upper East Side. Which is a problem, since I saw in a realty office window a listing ad for a 2-bedroom apartment in the neighborhood, renting for $18,000 per month. So... the French should be happy: I also ran into the French Embassy, which is at like 5th Ave and 77th-ish street, right across from Central Park. So pretty much the most expensive real estate in New York. And it isn't exactly small. Your French tax dollars at work!

Below are some pictures I took while at Central Park. Until next time. Actually, I should have lots of updates this week, because I have having kind of a busy week-- things almost every night after work. So thank god my emergency stay-late-at-the-office happened tonight, and not another day.

View of Turtle Pond from Belvedere Castle, Central Park

Belvedere Castle, Central Park. Apparently it was built in 1868/69 as a lookout tower, and was converted into an observatory for the National Weather Service at the turn of the 20th century. Yay for incredibly Victorian Age

Balcony at Castle in front of stone steps leading down to pond

France. Actually kind of literally, since it is the Embassy and Embassies are technically small slices of sovereign soil in a foreign land. Even though it is sitting on some of the most expensive real estate in New York

Also, I checked lilmonsters.org. Lexi still isn't listed as having been adopted. I don't know if it is because they just haven't updated the site, or because the guy decided not to adopt her. I hope it is the former. But if it is that latter, I so wish I could take her with me to Chicago. She deserves a good home. I am still so sad about the pet policy at my building. I kind of wish I had thought about looking around more for a place that allows doggies. But, it is pretty much exactly what we were looking for in every other way: was the right price, location, etc.

But I still want doggie. :(

The Other Side of the Hedge

I truly believe that sometimes, life tarries in signs. Anyone who knows me, will tell you that I am not a religious person, and I have my reasons for that. But I have always felt, that there is some higher universal order-- what, I don't know-- that shows its self for time to time, dropping hints as we try to make decisions in our lives.

I wasn't going to write tonight, because nothing really exciting has happened today. But then I came across three "signs," that, given my current "state of flux," seemed particularly profound, one more than the last. The last pushed it over the edge.

First, on the most mundane level, the world seems to be conspiring against my completing the writing competition for law journals. One of the two reference books I desperately need, was sold out at the NU bookstore. I waited until I got to California to try to locate one, because I figured it wouldn't be that hard. I was wrong. It is near impossible to find, and near impossible to get until Monday, less than 24 hours before the project is due. Now, if I really wanted to move heaven and earth, I could probably drive around all over the South Bay, until I found a library that carries it. But, given how much time that will take, and how much reading I still have to do, there is no way that I would be able to finish this thing, without pulling yet another all-nighter. Possibly more than one. Which frankly, I am not willing to do. This whole thing seems to be a lot more about jumping through hoops, and less about substantive meaning. So, I probably won't finish the writing competition. Which, I am not too upset about, frankly. Instead of slaving over some bullshit make-work, trying to get another resume "notch" in my belt, I am going hiking tomorrow with one of my friends from high school, since she is briefly in town. And I have no regrets. There is something really freeing in defying the "ought," the expectation that work/prestige/success > everything else.

Which brings me to sign number two. Now, I am not the biggest fan of many of Mitt Romney's political positions, but I do like to believe I give credit where credit is due, and the man has hit it on the head about the appropriate life balance. This quote-- which I ran across in my daily perusal of Yahoo! articles-- pretty much sums up the appropriate "work-life" balance. It struck me as so true, I was willing to ignore the fact it was given during his commencement speech at the sketch-tastic Liberty University.

"I have never once regretted missing any experience or opportunity in business in order to be with my wife and five sons. Regrets usually come the other way around, from missing moments with your children that don't come again. The same holds true for time with your parents as the years fall away. Among the things in life that can be put off, being there when it matters most isn't one of them."

Basically, the Republican nominee, and potential next President of the United States, has publicly stated what more and more people of my generation (I think? Or maybe it's just me?) are starting to figure out. The good life? The right work-life balance? Is more life and less work. As I have said before, one works to live, not the other way around. This quote, pretty much distilled and brought into stark light, my evolving life philosophy. Some people want to be the next Carly Fiorina, the next multi-billionaire who counts his or her success by the number of cars in the garage, the white picket fence. Some people want power and prestige, want to rule their corner of the world. That is great for those people; I am learning, I am realizing, that I am not one of those people. I get my true happiness-- not the fleeting warm feeling of "good job" from some third party-- by moments in life, whether in solitude "me" time, hanging with friends, or being with family. Not from "stuff" or how much extra money is in my bank account. A job, or a life, where I would continually have to give up these moments-- even if small, even if just the ability to relax after a long day-- would just turn me into a bitter, angry person. In a moment of hubris, I will say that, if I put all my energy into it, I probably could be one of those people. I like to think anyway, that I am fairly smart and resourceful. But at what cost? So, I am going hiking tomorrow.

And, on a more metaphysical level, sign three. Instead of reading late into the night, the many cases for the competition, I decided to settle into bed a little early, and read a work of fiction that has not been assigned to me. Something I haven't had time to do in ages, and something I really miss. So I started in on an old book of short stories, one from high school. I was reading some pretty interesting, but straightforward stuff. A story by Hemingway, for example. And then I came to a short work by E.M. Forster, The Other Side of the Hedge. Although it is only seven or eight pages long, it is incredibly complex, and incredibly metaphysical, allegorical, and philosophical. I am sure some English Masters student could have a field day with it (and one probably has). But the point is, this story-- from which I got the title of today's post-- points out the fallacy of the kind of always-achieving, always-pushing-forward life we all have been told, or have been telling ourselves, that we want, or should want.

It would take much too much space to get into everything here, but basically the story tells of a guy running on an endless, dusty road. It tells of his scorn for those who have lagged behind. But, there is this hedge that always lines the road. Early on, after running, running, running down this road, the guy collapses in exhaustion. He feels a cool breeze coming from the hedge, so he steps off the road and goes through the hedge, to its other side, to investigate. What he finds a paradise-like environment, with cool ponds and green, rolling hills. People are there, and they carry on and run around and stuff, but never in a pointed direction, unlike the road people. The guy spends most of the story ridiculing the people he sees, going on and on about how the point of human existence is progress, to continue on the road, to "get somewhere." Basically, though, the point of the story is that, for all that the road really is endless, until one gets to the end point-- death-- at which time, the road leads back to the paradise-- everyone end up in the same place. The guide taking the guy around-- who turns out to be the guy's brother, who he had left "on the side of the road" because his brother has "wasted" his time singing, and his energy helping people-- also shows that the "road" doesn't really go on and on into endless progress, but really doubles back and back, never really getting too far away from the beginning of this road (which the guy is shown), from which all humans began their endless race. The point of all this, was that the people who were in this paradise, were content to just be, and not enslaved by an endless and somewhat futile drive to carry on and on. They were truly happy, while the others were burdened by the necessity of the road. The guide pointed out that, once someone from the road came to this new paradise, they never went back. At the end of the story, the guy finally comes round, and abandons himself to the simple pleasures and truth of paradise.

Given our highly competitive society, where "success" as defined by accolades or progress or material measures is paramount, I thought this story particularly apt. It made me realize, yet again, that there are multiple definitions of success, and that perhaps being on "the road" is not the, or at least not the only, way to find contentment in this life, and is, perhaps, actually a poor way of conducting one's life. So, perhaps I need to get off the road for a while, and find my own "other side of the hedge." I feel a lot of us are told just to keep going down the road, to keep at it, because what we will find will always be worth it. But what if, that road-- like the road in the story-- really is dusty and endless, not really leading you anywhere further, for all of your struggling? Anyway, I would encourage anyone who can to read it. It gives a lot of food for thought. Might have to read it more than once, though.